The guilt for betraying Maksim, the paranoia of Mikhail finding out they know about his fiancée.
It gnaws at me until I’m so stressed, I’m nearly pulling my hair out at the roots.
So I do the only thing I can manage. I open the door and wait for Maksim to come back.
I’m surprised to find the hallway empty. No one’s hovering outside, waiting for me to open the door in order to bust in and demand answers. That makes it worse, somehow—thekindness, their granting me space in order to let me fall apart privately.
I try not to let that get to me, to make the guilt inside me worse.
Maksim finds me about an hour after that. He holds a plate of food in one hand, the other clutching a bottle of water with condensation rolling down the sides. He smiles at me before shutting the door gently behind him.
There’s no probing for answers, no demands. Just a quiet insistence when he tugs me gently toward him, the plate momentarily set down onto the table and forgotten when he wraps his arms around me.
I don’t even resist.
My forehead presses to his chest as his hand rubs a slow, grounding line along my spine. I breathe him in and try to let the shudder crawling up my back dissipate while I listen to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.
But it’s hard…
My thoughts race in unending loops. Maksim doesn’t speak for a long while. He just holds me like he knows I’m on the verge of shattering and he's the only thing keeping me stitched together.
When he finally pulls back, it’s only far enough for his eyes to find mine. There’s a smile on his lips, soft and patient, but concern weaves its way beneath the surface. I try to pretend I don’t see it, looking anywhere but at him, but he doesn’t let me go far when I try to pull away.
One arm stays hooked around my waist, keeping me in place.
“You alright?” he murmurs.
“Yeah. I just…” I try to find words that won’t sound like excuses. Everything coming out of my mouth sounds like confessions to me, every word a lie he’ll soon unearth. “Everything got really overwhelming back there. Sorry for making a scene.”
His gaze softens further, and he nods like he’s been waiting for me to say that. “I understand.”
Maksim’s hand lifts, brushing along the edge of my cheekbone. His fingers trace a slow line, a barely-there whisper of contact that steals the tension right out of my shoulders. My breath hitches despite myself, and I lean into his palm before I can think better of it.
I let my eyes fall shut. For a moment, I let myself feel it. I missed this. Missed the way he always knew how to quiet the chaos. The way his touch softens the edges of my panic like it’s nothing.
But then guilt slams into me like a freight train. Because how dare I?
How can I enjoy a peaceful moment this when our son is still out there? How dare I feel anything close to happiness when Leo is alone, likely scared, wondering why we haven’t come for him yet?
My throat tightens as I try to swallow it down. “I feel like I’m losing it.”
“I’ll find him. I swear to you, Ivy. I will get our son back. Whatever it takes,” he murmurs against the crown of my head.
It’s almost impossible for me to breathe. “I know.”
He pulls back only enough to press a kiss to my forehead, slow and steady. It lingers, like he’s trying to seal the vow there, brand it into my skin. The tears come then. Quiet, stupid ones. I blink them back before they can fall.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to shut you out. I just?—”
“I know,” he says again, his hand sliding down to tangle with mine. “You don’t ever have to apologize for surviving.”
He pulls me in for a kiss then, his lips moving against mine in a slow and gentle motion.
My fingers clutch at the front of his shirt, fisting the fabric as if that alone will keep me from unraveling. The soft press of his lips moves against mine with aching precision, like he’s trying to memorize the shape of me all over again. I can feel the heat of him beneath his clothes, the tension in his frame just barely held in check.
I pull him closer, pressing our bodies together like I could maybe stitch myself into his skin if I just tried hard enough. His arms wrap around me instantly, tightening with something fierce and tender all at once, reminding me how afraid he had been to let me go the first time he held me again.
Then, without warning, he lifts me off the floor.
